7. Cash
Cash
Aleks had shared a picnic lunch with me.
Obviously, Leo and his mother had been in on the whole thing. So it either didn’t mean what it seemed to mean when he’d passed me a piece of bread he’d buttered himself, or his family . . . approved . . . of me.
So why did the prospect of that make me so nervous?
It wasn’t just that he was only a couple of years into adulthood, though it really was unfair that werewolves aged like they did.
Yes, his face was clean-shaven, his skin impeccably smooth, but the planes of his face were sharp and handsome, and he’d packed on muscle in a way that was impossible to ignore.
He wasn’t beefy and wide as a door or anything, but every line of his body was perfectly sculpted.
I’d never been perfect like that. Maybe some wolves were just built different, or maybe there was something wrong with me, but Aleks? There wasn’t a single thing wrong with him. He was beautiful.
And the very last thing I ought to be doing as an ill-favored outsider was take any notice of the alpha’s heir.
See, my father hadn’t lost his leg in any old accident. He hadn’t been wrestling mountain lions or gotten caught in a bear trap.
If he had, all he would’ve had to do was wait. He’d have gotten out himself, or someone would’ve found him, and he’d have healed like any werewolf. But he hadn’t.
I’d been sixteen when my friends had left the Wildwood pack and gone west. They’d challenged Reeve, Grant’s brother and the alpha before him, and won their freedom.
When Jax had beaten Reeve into the dirt, he’d thought I would go with them, but I hadn’t. I still wasn’t sure if that made me a coward, but Pa and Uncle Tommy weren’t going anywhere, and I hadn’t wanted to leave them behind, especially not after Ma left.
It wasn’t until Evie was born that I stopped questioning whether or not I’d made the right call, because there was nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for that girl.
But Jax had left Reeve with a heap load of rage and nowhere to put it. He found out I’d known all along that the challenge was coming, and when he’d screamed in my face that I was a traitor, it’d come with a punch so hard that he’d broken my jaw.
He’d snarled that I should come to the big house that evening, while I’d still been in the dirt in a blinding amount of pain. Shamed and broken, I’d dragged myself back to Pa’s house with tears in my eyes.
He’d gone to Reeve instead. He’d promised he would take care of everything, but he hadn’t come home that night. Not at all.
I knew, because I’d stayed up all night with my back to the far wall, watching the door, my arms wrapped around my legs, shivering while my whole face ached.
It was the alpha who’d hurt me, so it hadn’t healed normally—not fast like I was used to.
Years later, my jaw still clicked when I opened my mouth wide.
That night I’d spent alone and scared, I’d known in my gut that something terrible had happened, even before Uncle Tommy opened the door with Pa’s arm around his shoulders.
Pa couldn’t walk on his own, because his leg had been missing. Everything from above his knee down was just gone, and I’d stared in dumbfounded shock as he’d smiled at me when Uncle Tommy helped him into a seat at the kitchen table and asked what I wanted for breakfast.
We’d never spoken about it directly, but I knew Reeve had taken it, and he’d done it because of me.
Would it have been worse if I’d run? Maybe he would’ve killed my pa.
Or maybe Pa wouldn’t have had to save my sorry ass.
That was all I could think about—what was going to happen when I crossed Grant, and how keen he seemed on being crossed—while I walked him around the worksite and explained how we might change things if we continued to build new houses.
Our pack needed new homes. I’d had to replace the supports under Pa’s house as soon as I’d gotten home, because the floor was sagging. It was hard enough for him to get around on an even surface.
And I desperately needed to make him a new prosthetic than the one I’d made before leaving for my apprenticeship. I hadn’t learned more about anatomy, but I’d learned more about woodworking and—
It might help. I owed him so much more than a bit of carved wood.
In time, Katya came up to the house herself, and the entire atmosphere changed. She was determinedly happy with the progress we’d made, and she didn’t hesitate to compliment Leo and Aleks on their work so far.
She’d even clapped my cheeks and kissed my forehead and said I was doing a wonderful job and she was so pleased to see we were progressing so quickly.
Grant couldn’t say much to that, and soon enough, he left. I thought Katya managed more of the pack than any of us realized. It was a wonder that Grant hadn’t tried to make her his mate.
Maybe he’d tried and she’d outright refused.
Once Grant was out of earshot, Leo came out with the picnic basket, and Aleks turned to me with his head cocked. “Should we continue?”
I tried to take a full breath, but my lungs were tight and panic was rushing through my veins.
“I . . . ah . . . why don’t you share with the others?
I should get back to—” I glanced at the house—what would be the house—and it seemed like too little.
Just some treated logs and set posts. If I wanted to keep Grant happy, I needed to work faster.
I’d mark beams and measure out the distances for joists for the roof and .
. . and I wouldn’t sit down and risk getting anyone else hurt.
I’d work. I’d do what I was supposed to.
I kept to it for the rest of the day, quiet and concentrated, and when Aleks said it was getting dark and we should stop, I told him to go ahead without me. I’d be right behind them.
When I got home, it was fully dark. Pa was sitting at the dining room table across from Evie playing checkers.
He’d made that table with his own hands, back before I was born.
Heck, the checkerboard too. Most of the stuff the pack had, we’d made ourselves, but Pa had always been good with woodworking.
That was how I’d gotten started. It’d seemed like a practical way to contribute to the pack—something people needed. Maybe even a skill that would keep me out of trouble.
Not that I made trouble. I tried very hard not to fuck up again.
“I was thinking leek and potato soup for dinner,” Pa said when I came inside.
“Sounds good,” I rasped. “I just need to—I’ll clean up.”
I rushed through the main room to the little bedroom that was mine, and I’d barely gotten the door shut before I sank to the floor with my shoulders back against it.
My breath hitched, and the tears I’d been holding back all day overwhelmed me as I buried my face against my arms, hugging my knees in tight.
Pa and Evie could probably hear me through the door, gasping for breath as I sat with my head between my knees. Werewolf hearing didn’t allow for much privacy.
But when Evie knocked softly and I didn’t answer, she left me alone.
They both did.
And with my eyes squeezed shut tight, I did my best to convince myself they’d be fine.